


Unlike Father, Unlike Son

by DiamondbackMako16



Category: Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil (2018)
Genre: Abusive Father, Demonology, Demons, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, absent father, rejected son, unwanted offspring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-10 17:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondbackMako16/pseuds/DiamondbackMako16
Summary: Alastor was the cruel Executioner of Hell. Lucifer's lead torturer. Everyone either feared, envied or respected him. He dealt out punishment swiftly and harshly. No mercy.It was everything he could have wanted in a legacy. It was all he needed.What he didn't need, was a child as a result of a careless one-night-stand. What he didn't want was for the child to be the exact opposite of him.Sartael was the low-level son of a low-level demoness. He was soft by demon standards, and everyone laughed at him. He was the one no one wanted to be. He was squimish when it came to certain punishments, and he pitied some of the souls.Two contrasting demons that no one would have suspected were related.But they were, and it was a fact that Alastor resented from the moment his son took his first breath of air.Sartael would resent it too...that is, if he ever found out WHO his absent father was...*This story has nothing to do with my 'Destiny over Fate' series/verse, but there will be some demonology elements and backstories shared between the two verses*





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> So, this idea started after I noticed some physical similarities between Sartael and Alastor. Here's what I noticed:  
> 1) The two have the same chest plating as well as a row of small spikes that line their collar bone.  
> 2)Sartael has a heavily ridged/spiked brow, and Alastor does have a few spikes behind his nose opening.  
> 3)Both Sartael and Alastor have spikes on their cheek bones.  
> 4)Both demons have long, curved noses.  
> 5)They both have a pointed chin that sport a black tip.  
> 6)Alastor's shoulders look plated with spikes, and Sartael has them as well, though his are downplayed a lot.  
> 7)Sartael has a hump on his back, and in a brief scene, Alastor has what looks like a hump on his back as well.  
> 8)Sartael has these pointed protrusions on his forearms, near his elbows, and Alastor has them as well. 
> 
> Obviously, these are only a few minor things as there are some BIG differences (height mostly), but none the less, I saw these as subtle traits a son could have inherited from his father (and gaining the rest from his mother), and thus, the theory of Sartael and Alastor being father and son was born. 
> 
> With that said, the first few chapters will mostly be a recap of the film with a few things added as it's going to start with Alastor arriving in the village just as the film started. Any of the familiar dialogue is a mix of the English audio and English subtitles that you can hear/read when you watch the film on Netflix. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil does not belog to me. This fic is purley for fun, and i'm in NO WAY making ANY money off this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sartael has been doing a bad job at his retrieval. Cue Alastor to show his son how its done...

A thin layer of fog dwindled through the forest as the sun rose over the surrounding hills. Birds chirped as they flew over the trees, searching for food for their hungry offspring. A few squirrels ventured from their homes, shaking off any lingering sleep before taking off to forage for their own meals. Various other creatures of followed their lead.

The resident humans in the nearby village were among those that slowly brought the area to life as they sluggishly went to work in their potato fields or tended to whatever chore needed to be done before mass.

As they worked, a figured materialized seemingly out of nowhere, hidden by whatever darkness the forest still provided.

Alastor, Hell’s Chief Executioner, glared out at the pathetic excuse of a human settlement.

At the moment, he bore no resemblance to his monstrous and intimidating form, and had instead settled for the human disguise that would best benefit him for this mission.

His masquerade consisted of an aging, balding man, complete with stylish ‘mutton chops’ and a thick mustache. His outfit consisted of a white, long sleeve shirt, a grey waist coat, a matching inverness cape, satin puff tie, dark slacks, polished shoes, leather gloves, and a black top hat. The waistcoat chain and walking cane tied his elegant appearance together, as did the round spectacles that rested near the tip of his nose.

All in all, he radiated a man of high class and importance, and his improvised alias backed this up.

Here, he was Alfredo Ortiz, a government employee tasked to investigate an issue regarding a man by the name of _Francisco Patxi_ , a man that his fool of a son had failed to bring to Hell.

Alastor let out a demonic growl.

It was supposed to be something so _easy_ , something that _every_ demon should have been able to do.

Find the soul and bring them to Hell. That’s all he had to do, but apparently that was too much for a demon like Sartael.

Leave it to him to screw up on such a small and simple task.

‘Perhaps I _should_ have stayed in contact with him and his mother after his birth.’ Alastor thought as he tightened his hold on his cane, ‘He may not have turned out to be a complete _embarrassment_ if I had.’ Alastor adjusted his tie before leaning down and picking up the Gladstone bag he had brought along as part of his ruse.

He straightened up to his full human height and stepped out of the foliage and onto the path that would lead him to the rural village.

As he approached, he noticed several villagers stop in their work to stare at him in curiosity as he approached. He paused and regarded them for only a second before continuing on his way, making sure to give the large cross that stood at the town’s entrance a wide berth.

He fought the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust as he entered the delipidated village. The streets were filthy and littered with straw and dirt while animals, mostly chickens, roamed freely. The gawking citizens were obviously of the lower class as many wore dirty and tattered clothing. _Clean_ , freshly washed clothes were hung to dry on lines in full display for all to see.

Then there was the fact that crosses were hung in abundance on nearly every building he passed. 

This was a religious bunch for sure…

He would have to tread carefully with these folks. One wrong move could give him away, and he’d be vanquished before he could even complete his mission. Even under his guise he’d have to be careful with what he said least he offend someone and be deemed untrustworthy.

‘This is why I _despise_ coming to the human realm.’ Alastor thought as he worked his way through the maze that made up the town’s streets. His destination; the village pub.

It was no secret that these human watering holes were the breeding ground of rumors, and gossip flourished within their walls. This was always the best place to gain intel and perhaps even find a drunk or two to plant the seeds that would be the first step to his plan.

At last, he reached his destination, and he stepped into the dimly lit establishment.

This time he _didn’t_ hold back the look of disgust as a wave of B.O hit him. He masked his distaste as he turned and closed the door. His regained his composure as he turned back around a second later.

 _By the nine levels_ he forgot how bad living humans smelled!

None the less, he pushed forward towards the bar counter where the owner seemed to be settled, as well as were a small group of men had gathered.

“Good Morning.” He greeted curtly.

“Good Morning sir. What can I get you?” The man behind the counter answered while jerking his head in the direction of several bottles under the counter.

Alastor eyed the men next to him while a couple of others joined the group, “Nothing to drink, thank you.” He started. He sent the men another sharp glance, “Do you have a room available?” He had been pleased to learn that this particular bar held an inn above the drinking establishment, and was willing to take advantage while here.

Not that he was planning on staying long.

If all went well, he’d be gone by the evening.

The owner smiled, “Yeah, and it’s got a very comfortable bed. Ten reals a night.”

Good enough.

“Very well.” Alastor agreed and pulled up his bag and began riffling though to pull out the needed amount. He stopped when the owner started spouting out the various drinks he had and persisting his attempts to sell something else to the demon. Oddly enough, everything he had was ‘the best in the region’.

Alastor _highly_ doubted that.

“I don’t drink. _Thank you_.” Alastor ground out in finality.

In truth, he didn’t mind a good drink every now and then, but _not_ while he was working, and certainly _not_ when he was busy fixing Sartael’s mess.

_‘He’s being held captive.’_

Alastor’s jaw clenched as he recalled the vague information Orobas had relayed to the council as they discussed the missing demon and the soul he was supposed to bring down.

When he gets his claws on that _damn_ boy-

“Do you mind if I ask you what bring you to our town?”

Alastor blinked at the sudden question, and he soon found that all the gathered men were glaring at him suspiciously.

It was time to put his plan into action.

“Alfredo Ortiz is my name.” He reached up and took off his top hat, “I work as an investigator for the provincial government.”

“An investigation?! About what?!” One of the men spoke over his friend, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m looking for a smithy in the area-”

“There’s only _one_ smithy here, and it’s in ruins.” The owner interrupted.

“I need to talk to its proprietor,” Alastor continued, irritated at the interruption, “Francisco Patxi.”

“ _Patxi_? What’d he do?” the owner asked.

Alastor began to riffle through his bag once more, ignoring another man’s protests of how the blacksmith was dangerous and not to be messed with.

“He’s so fierce, they call him ‘The Hammer’!” The human warned.

Alastor merely sent him an unimpressed glance. Was that supposed to scare him?

“The locals avoid his place, and he avoids us.” The owner added.

“It’s a preliminary search of the property. That’s all.” Alastor insisted with a shrug and a shake of his head.

“Is there something of value there?” the man closest to him asked.

Alastor practically smirked, “I’m sorry, but that’s confidential.” He flashed an official looking envelope, making sure that the humans saw it.

The bait had been cast.

“Are you alone?” the man next to him asked again, “Maybe…we can help you.” He offered.

Alastor perked.

The fish were nibbling…

“I’ve come early to start work on the investigation. _More_ agents will be here soon.” He denied gently, though he was actually hoping they would take the bait.

Unfortunately, his reply seemed to only rile up the barkeep, “ _Look,”_ he growled as he leaned forward, “Its bad enough that the government raised our taxes. We don’t need them coming her and bothering folks. That forge is a ruin, and you won’t find anything of value around here. During the war, everything was melted down to make weapons, from the cooking pots to the church bell. This is a poor town.” He finished with a glare.

 _Damn it_!

Looks like the mindless sheep _did_ have a guard dog after all…

Alastor had some choice words for the barkeep, but held his tongue. It was best this wolf played nice and didn’t agitate the protector of the flock any further.

“And…that room?” he asked instead, hoping for a change of topic.

The keeper sent a final glare, “Yeah…Benito!” He called over his shoulder.

A young, messy haired boy trudged down the stairs, sleepy eyed and still in his pajamas.

“Wake up and take this gentleman to his room!” the keeper instructed.

“I’m coming.” The child grumbled as the keeper approached and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“And put a blanket over the still.” The man whispered in his ear before slapping the boy on his cheek, effectively knocking any remaining drowsiness from the kid.

Alastor made a show to put away the ‘government’ letter, going as far as to place a protective hand on his bag when Benito went to grab it. Seeing the boy’s interest, he removed his hand and allowed him to carry it for him. He then placed his hat back on and turned to follow the boy, but just as he reached the staircase, he turned back to the men.

He may not have been able to gather any volunteers for the search, but he could still go and at least _examine_ the area. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even _need_ the humans’ assistance after all, and he may even manage to retrieve the soul and take Sartael home during the trip. He may not even have to return to this dump at all…

It was worth a try.

“By the way, how do I get to the forge?” he questioned innocently.

The keeper took a few steps towards him, “When you reach the wash house, take the path on the left. As you go through the forest, follow the river.” His voice dropped in warning, “But be careful…the devil lives there.”

Alastor huffed and lifted his cane before following after the child who was waiting for him at the top.

 _The ‘Devil’_?

Alastor knew that was supposed to be a warning from one human to another, but to the archdemon, it only informed him what he already knew.

He shook his head as he was led into his assigned room.

“Where do you want me to put this, sir?” Benito asked as he held up bag.

“On the bed is fine.” Alastor instructed, watching as the human child did as he was told. “Thank you.”

Benito went to leave when he suddenly turned, “Oh! And our village hold mass at noon if you’re-”

“I won’t be attending.” Alastor cut in abruptly, “I’ve got very important work to do.” 

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise, “Oh…uh…o-okay…” he sputtered, looking flabbergasted, as if the thought of someone _not_ attending church was unheard of, and by what the demon could assume, it probably _was_.

Alastor huffed and moved past the young child. He sent a cold look at the boy, who flinched under the steely gaze. He huffed again and continued without another word. He remained silent even as he clomped down the stairs and past the men still assembled at the counter. He could feel their eyes following him out of the pub, and he felt more as he strolled out of the village with purpose.

He continued his quick pace until he reached the bridge. There he paused to look over the barren wasteland that the humans dared to call a forest.

With his jaw set firm, he tightened his hold on his cane and continued onwards, following the river just as the keeper had instructed.

His mind wondered back to the meeting that led to his little ‘quest’.

_Alastor stood among Earls, Dukes, Kings, Princes, and other high archdemons, such as himself._

_Seated in thrones at the front of the room were the High Seven._

_Sitting dead center was none other than Lucifer. To his immediate left was Beelzebub, and to the left of him sat Leviathan, in his rare humanoid form, and Mammon. To Lucifer’s right sat Satan, followed by Belphegor and Asmodeus. Behind Lucifer stood Lilith, who regarded the rest of them with disinterest._

_Lucifer’s dark eyes scanned the assembled demons before him._

_“It’s come to my attention,” he started, his voice echoing off the walls, “that a human made a binding contract with us eight years ago. His soul has yet to be delivered to me.” _

_Low murmurs sounded through the hall as the archdemons and demonesses voiced their confusion._

_Alastor had remained quite and furrowed his brows._

_An unaccounted soul?_

_How did that go unnoticed for so long?_

_“I understand and share your confusion on the delay.” Lucifer spoke up once more, his voice silencing everyone once more, “I think we can all agree to the questions of ‘how’ and ‘why’.” He sent a cold gaze in the direction of Baalberith._

_Alastor noted that the usually talkative demon was uncharacteristically silent._

_Perhaps even he knew the severity of the situation given that he was the one in charge of pacts made between humans and demons. _

_“Th-the file for the human was lost amongst others when one of my assistants misplaced it in the pile of closed deals instead of the open ones where it shou-”_

_“So it was a careless mistake made by you and your helper.” Satan accused, butting Baalberith’s ramble short._

_The pact keeper cringed, “With all do respect my Lord, but it was technically the fault of the low-level demon that handled the file.”_

_“And do you know the name of the demon at fault?” Lucifer questioned._

_“Eh…no…”_

_“What was that?”_

_“No, my Lord, I don’t recall the name of the demon that could have misplaced the file.” Baalberith answered a bit louder._

_Hell’s ruler huffed, “So the perpetrator has gone without punishment for his carelessness.”_

_“I…yes my Lord.”_

_Lucifer settled back against his seat, though he kept his eyes locked on the archdemon, “And how did it come to your attention of this open-ended pact if it was lost among other files?”_

_“I was looking for some information regarding a pact that was closed around the same time, and while looking through the parchments, I noticed that this particular one was deemed open, and after digging around, I couldn’t find any indication of the soul ever entering Hell.” Baalberith answered, sounding a bit more confident._

_“Who is the soul?”_

_“Francisco Patxi. He’s a blacksmith residing in Spain-”_

_“And the demon that was supposed to retrieve him?”_

_“Sartael. A low-level demon in the Eighth Circle. He dwells in billet 8400-D5 with several-”_

_“Enough!” Lucifer ordered, already fed up with the underlings constant rambling, “Where is Sartael?”_

_“I was unable to locate him. I don’t think he ever returned…”_

_“I see…” Lucifer locked eyes with Alastor for a second before looking over the crowd, “Orobas!” he called out._

_“Here, my Lord.” A calm, smooth voice sounded out._

_Alastor stepped aside as Lucifer’s oracle moved past him._

_“Orobas, what can you tell us about Sartael and this blacksmith?” Lucifer asked as the equine faced demon stopped before the steps where the highest demons sat._

_Orobas closed his eyes for a moment before looking up at the high ruler, “It would seem that he’s in a bit of a bind…” he announced._

_“A bind?” Lucifer furrowed his brows._

_“He’s been captured. He’s currently locked in an iron cage at the mercy of Francisco Patxi.”_

_Alastor bristled in anger. Not necessarily at the fact that a human was hurting his son, but at the fact that his son let himself be captured and put through whatever torment he was receiving. _

_“I’ve heard of this, Sartael,” Beelzebub voiced from his seat, earning a glare from Alastor, “and this isn’t his first time screwing up something so simple. I’ve heard rumors of how he takes pity on some of the sinners.” _

_Lucifer tensed in his seat, “Is that so?”_

_Beelzebub nodded almost too enthusiastically, “Yes! Among other things. He’s completely incapable of performing the simplest of tasks or is unwilling to do his full duty as a demon. There needs to be consequences for his defiance! He needs to be punished!” _

_Lucifer glanced down in thought, “Very well.” He looked up at his audience, “I need a volunteer to up and retrieve the two.”_

_“I’ll go!” Beelzebub volunteered, scooting to the edge of his seat, and looking more like an eager child than a fearsome archdemon._

_Alastor tensed._

_He couldn’t let that two-timing traitor go after his son. Not because he actually cared for the runt, but because it was his son, and if anyone was going to drag him back to face his punishment, it was going to be him._

_“ I’ll go.” The executioner stepped forward, glaring down the other volunteer. _

_Beelzebub returned the look._

_Lucifer glanced between the two, “… Alastor will go.” He announced. _

_“What!?” Beelzebub shot his gaze to Lucifer._

_“You heard me. Alastor will go.” The head ruler looked down at his lead torturer, “I trust he has enough skill to get the job done in a timely manner.”_

_“ I could get it done in a timely manner!” The Lord of the Flies argued. _

_Lucifer glared, “I’ve made my decision.” He said firmly._

_Beelzebub looked like he wanted to argue further, but seemed to think better of it as he simply sent another glare in Alastor’s direction before settling back in his seat._

_Alastor practically puffed his chest in arrogance._

_Lucifer looked at the rest of the demons, “The rest of you can leave.” He ordered, and the other demons and demonesses turned to file out of the room._

_Baalberith made to follow them when Lucifer’s voice sounded out, “Oh and, Baalberith?”_

_The demon turned, a worried look on his face, “Yes my Lord?”_

_“Make sure to bring your son to Alastor when he returns.”_

_Baalberith blanched, “My-my son? T-to Alastor? B-b-but why…my Lord?” he stammered as he glanced to Alastor in fear. _

_“He needs to be punished for his carelessness when handling documents. If Sartael must pay the price for incompetence, then so must your son. Perhaps a lesson from Alastor will straighten out your son, and then you won’t need to worry about passing on the blame to someone else.” Lucifer tilted his chin up as Baalberith opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. _

_The poor demon was practically hyperventilating by now, “I…I…” a defeated sigh, “Yes my Lord.” He turned to leave._

_“And one more thing Baalberith!” Lucifer called out. The demon turned, “Don’t ever lie to me again.”_

_“Yes my Lord.”_

_And with that, the last member of the audience trudged out of the room, closing the door behind him._

_The only remaining occupants in the room were the seven High Princes, Lilith, Alastor and Orobas._

_Lucifer looked over at Orobas, “Where are they?”_

_“In a Spaniard village called ‘Izarra’ in the Alava region. The blacksmith is lock in his forge with Sartael. Find the blacksmith, and you’ll find your son.” The oracle announced. Alastor nodded, and Orobas continued, “But be careful…this human is not what he seems, and there will be a child. Do not underestimate her.” He warned. _

_Beelzebub scoffed, “It’s a human. They’re all the same. And the child? I’m sure even the mighty Alastor can handle one of those.” _

_“ Do not underestimate them.” Orobas warned, this time more sternly. _

_“I understand.” Alastor noted._

_Orobas looked doubtful, but Lucifer simply waved the oracle off, “Thank you Orobas. You may leave now.”_

_Orobas gave a small bow and turned to leave._

_Once the door clicked shut, Lucifer cleared his throat, “Alastor, your job is to find Francisco Patxi and bring his soul to Hell so we can at last close this deal. Find your son and inform him of his demotion and…let me know how bad his situation is.” He turned and leaned closer to Satan, “We may have to change some safety regulations so that incidents like this can’s happen again.” He murmured in the other’s ear._

_Satan nodded, “Agreed.”_

_Alastor tightened his hold on his trident, “And what does his demotion include?”_

_Lucifer thought for a moment, “Tell him…he’ll be moved to the sad and repressed section of the Fifth circle. He’ll be working at boiling pot 203. In addition, he’s not to make any more pacts with humans.”_

_“For how long?”_

_“Indefinitely. But if he can prove that he’s capable of properly dealing with humans, I may lift the ban.” _

_Alastor doubt Sartael would ever prove his worth, but it was worth to note Lucifer’s offer._

_“Very well.” The executioner nodded._

_Lucifer stood up, prompting the others to do the same, “Well I guess that’s it then.” He descended the steps and placed a clawed hand on Alastor’s ridged shoulder, “I want you to know though, that I don’t take pleasure in demoting your son, but his incompetence...” he shook his head, “It’s gone on far too long. I’m sorry.” _

_“ I’m not.” Alastor straightened. The thought of his embarrassment of a son, irked him._

_Lucifer regarded him silently before turning and holding a hand out to his mate as she stepped down beside him. He sent one last look at his head punisher before leading Lilith out of the room._

_The other higher demons left in silence except for Beelzebub who just couldn’t resist the chance to peeve the executioner further. _

_“It’s always so disappointing when they don’t turn out the way you wanted them too. Isn’t it?” The Lord of the Flies smirked before scuttling out of the room, leaving a fuming Alastor alone with his thoughts. _

That had all gone down the previous night.

Come morning, the first thing Alastor did was inform his small group of followers, the Malebranche, that he would be gone for business for a short, yet undisclosed amount of time, and left them in charge while he was gone. Shortly after that, he found himself in the forest overlooking the village with his disguise and plan ready.

A little over an hour later, and here he was. Walking through a dilapidated forest and quickly approached a large wooden fence…with crosses…and spikes…

Wait, what?

Alastor slowed to a halt as he took in the scene.

Large metal spikes jutted outward from the gate. Some looked like they were nailed through from the other side, while others looked like they had been welded onto long slabs of metal, which were then seemingly bolted to the planks of wood that made up the fence. Lined along the top of the fence were metal crosses.

Chained to a nearby post were the remains of a ram’s skull, and above it hung a sign that translated to ‘Get Out of Here’.

Alastor blinked and tested the gate with a small push. It creaked softly, but the rusted chains prevented it from opening.

Alastor grabbed the shackles only to release them a second later when he felt the faint sensation of warmth through his leather gloves.

_Iron._

‘All of this must be iron as well...’ He thought as he looked the metal objects that adorned the barrier. He leaned in closer to peek through one of the many gaps between the wooden planks.

Beyond the barricade was an unkempt lawn with overgrown vegetation and dozens of crosses that littered the ground.

The barkeep’s warning came to mind.

Alastor sniffed the air.

He picked up the distinct and prominent scent of a single human male, and…he sniffed again, and there it was! A _demonic_ scent.

A third whiff confirmed what he already knew.

 _Sartael_.

The smell was faint, but it was there, and it was lingering…

_“The Devil lives there.”_

‘Indeed, he does...’ Alastor thought as he took in the iron spikes once more before pursing his lips in frustration.

It looked like this was going to be a bit more difficult than he thought.

He had hoped that he wouldn’t need the human’s help, but by the looks of it, he was going to have to stick to the original plan after all. 

“ _Damn_ it, Sartael.” Alastor growled as he turned and made his way back to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things to point out:  
> 1) Lucifer and Satan as different beings: I know that many see Lucifer and Satan as one and the same, but for this and every of my Errementari fics, I will be writing them as separate beings. 
> 
> 2)Leviathan: Leviathan is supposed to be this huge sea monster, but for the sake of my series, Levi will have the ability to take on a humanoid/demon form in order to attend meetings in Hell. 
> 
> 3)This leads me to the 'High Seven': I read that Lucifer, Satan, Beezlebub, Leviathan, Mammon, Belphegor and Asmodeus are attributed to the seven deadly sins and are the higher Princes of Hell. Lilith is said to be one of Lucifer's consorts, hence why she'll be around him so often. 
> 
> 4) Baalberith: Baalberith has been given many ranks, but the main thing to know is that one of his greatest responsibilities is notarizing pacts between humans and demons (I.g: Patxi and Sartael's deal). So, every pact made, he knows about it.
> 
> 5)Orobas (Prince Orobas): He's basically Lucifer's personal oracle as he's one of the demons that knows everything past, present and future. He's also one of the relatively nicer demons in Hell. (No really, look it up.)
> 
> 6)Iron: Iron is said to repel witches, warlocks and all things 'evil', which would include demons.


	2. Plan B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things got a bit derailed after Alastor's first visit to the forge, but he seems to think that he's got the train back on track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: the first few chapters will mostly be a recap of the film with a few things added as it's going to start with Alastor arriving in the village just as the film started. Any of the familiar dialogue is a mix of the English audio and English subtitles that you can hear/read when you watch the film on Netflix.
> 
> Disclaimer: Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil does not belong to me. This awesome film belongs to Paul Urkijo, and a special thanks goes out to him as well as the cast and crew for bringing this film to light <3.  
> With that said; This fic is purely for fun, and i'm in NO WAY making ANY money off this.

Alastor clutched his cane tightly as he marched down the path that would lead him back to town, frustration evident in his face.

The blacksmith was there alright, and so was Sartael.

He could have gone in and taken them back then and there, if only that damn smithy hadn’t been fortified so well…

Alastor kicked a rock out of his way, and the small stone went flying far into the brush.

How Alastor wished that had been an actual demon…

Once he got back, he would make sure that Sartael received a lesson he would never forget, that much was certain. Baalberith’s boy would also be getting his own punishment for dragging everyone in this situation in the first place, and by the time Alastor was done with the two, he was sure they would never make these same mistakes again, _regardless_ of what anyone thought.

_Alastor had just informed the Malebranche of his upcoming, short absence, and was heading towards the gates of Hell, his scowl firmer than usual._

_He already had his hands full with his own work, now he had to go out of his way to do his son’s job. _

_It was enough to put anyone in a foul mood. _

_The only thing that eased his tension were the looks of fear on both humans and demons as he trudged by. He relished the way everyone scrambled out of his way, least they get kicked several yards away. Several of the slower ones did get hit, and Alastor savored their cries of pain. _

_One particular demon however, purposely moved in front of the arch-demon, and seemingly stared him down in defiance._

_The act alone was enough to bristle Alastor, and he prepared to punt the demon. He froze when he recognized the demon- no, demoness that stood before him. _

_“Xenia.” He growled out._

_“Alastor.” She replied._

_For most, her voiced seemed to be drowned out by screams of the surrounding souls, but Alastor’s keen ears picked up the sound. It wasn’t harsh or demanding, but rather, soft and pleading. Some of the other nearby demons and demonesses heard the way she addressed their higher up and cringed at how she didn’t acknowledge him with his appropriate title._

_Alastor however, merely glared down at the female, “Stand aside.” He ordered._

_Xenia remained where she was, “Please…” she begged._

_“ MOVE!” _

_She and the other demons jumped at his raised voice, and Xenia took a couple of steps back, but the command hadn’t sent her scrambling out of the way like Alastor had hoped it would._

_“Alastor…” she started again, this time sounding more desperate._

_A deep, rumbling growl was her answer._

_Alastor didn’t know why he was putting up with this. Using his leg, he nudged her aside, watching as she stumbled to keep her footing as she was pushed out of the way. He would have to deal with her later about challenging him in front of the other demons. _

_“Alastor!” she called after him as he stormed past._

_The cry made him stop and he turned to the female. Then, without another word, he reached down and wrapped his long fingers around her waist, and lifted her up, ignoring her gasp of surprise._

_The surrounding demons gave their own cries of concern, and a few looked as if they wanted to come to the female’s aid. Unsurprisingly, their fear kept them in place._

_“Get back to work!” Alastor hissed before stomping off with the troublesome female in his grasp._

_Xenia remained silent as Alastor searched for a remote area where they could talk in private, even though he already knew what she was going to say…_

_Eventually, he found a spot and released Xenia none too gently on a ledge that was leveled with his chest._

_“I should punish you for that little display.” Alastor started, his crimson eyes narrowing in distaste._

_Xenia looked down and gave a small bow, “I apologize for my disrespect, but…Ectorius came to me, apologizing for misplacing Sartael’s pact and crying that it was his fault that Sartael went missing, and then Prince Orobas said you were going to go retrieve-”_

_“Orobas spoke to you?” Alastor demanded._

_Xenia’s ears dipped down, “…I sought him out.” She admitted._

_“ Why?” _

_“I wanted to see if what Ectorius said was true, and if he could tell me where Sartael is located and what his condition was.” Her golden eyes locked on his crimson orbs, “And then he told me that you were selected to retrieve him…” _

_“And?”_

_Xenia swallowed as she gathered her courage, “Please be gentle with him.” She pleaded, obviously knowing how Alastor was and what he may have had in mind for the younger male._

_“I’ll deal with him how I see fit.” The executioner bit out._

_Xenia’s eyes widened, “He’s our son-”_

_“ Your son.” _

_“ Our son!” _

_Alastor straightened with snort. Had Xenia been any other demon, he would have swiped her off the ledge no questions asked._

_Even now, he wanted to punish her for all her disrespect, but something was holding him back, and it was something that confused him greatly._

_He had made it clear all those centuries ago that their night of passion was a one-time thing, and she would mean nothing to him in the future. It was a decision that he often found himself struggling to uphold as there seemed to be something about the demoness that kept drawing his patience and preventing him from disciplining her the same way he would have done to someone else._

_It disturbed him as she was getting more and more confident around him._

_Someday, somehow, he was going to have to put her back in her place…_

_“He and I may be related by blood…but I will never call that disgrace my son.” He banged his trident on the ground, “And I’ll do as I please with him!” He lifted Xenia off the ledge and placed her back on the ground. _

_This time, the demoness lost her balance and crumpled to the ground with a small yelp before getting to her feet, adjusting her outfit, “Alastor!” she pleaded as she ran after his retreating form._

_“ Enough!” Alastor snarled, whirling around to give a warning growl at his one-time flame. _

_The action was enough to make the female skid to a stop and stare up at him with wide eyes._

“ _My mind is made up.” Was all the arch-demon said as he turned and continued on his way to Hell’s entrance, leaving the distraught female behind._

Alastor shook his head.

 _Xemia_ …

That demoness was the reason why Sartael came out so soft and weak. She had coddled him since birth and _always_ came to his defense, making up excuses for his mistakes, and harassing Alastor to go easy on the younger demon, even though said demon was unaware of his relation to Hell’s head torturer.

Perhaps Sartael wouldn’t have turned out so bad if Alastor had stuck around after his birth, but…the mere sight of the infant had disgusted the high demon so much that he left shortly after meeting his newborn son, and remained distant ever since.

He remembered the exact moment Xemia revealed their son to him. He remembered the small amount of pride he felt when the demoness told him she had bore a son, only for all his excitement to melt away when he looked down at the tiny, scrawny, baby boy sleeping in his mother’s arms. His disappointment only grew when Sartael woke up a short time later, and looked up at him with those damn yellow eyes.

It was that humiliating moment that Alastor realized he had fathered a low-level demon.

 _His_ son…was at the bottom of the hierarchy.

Alastor, Hell’s chief executioner, and one of the cruelest demons in the inferno, was the father of one of the softest demons in the pits.

It was a taunting fact that Alastor did his best to keep secret, save for the handful of higher ups that knew of the unfortunate relation.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps brought him back to the real world, and he found himself narrowly avoiding getting run over by a young girl carrying a basket of food.

He blinked as he tried to compose himself after the shock.

Nearby, the young girl stood clutching her basket, watching him wearily, “Sorry…” she mumbled. She took a few steps back and away from him.

Alastor frowned at the human child, “You need to watch where you’re going.” He scolded.

The girl shifted, “I’m sorry,” she said again, “I was just in a hurry.”

“And where would a young lady such as yourself, be in a hurry to get too?” Alastor questioned.

“I’m going on a picnic.” Came the shy response.

“With whom?”

“…by myself…” The girl was looking more and more uneasy as the questions rolled out.

The sound of church bells rang out, and Alastor fought the urge to cover his ears at the distant sound, “Shouldn’t you be at mass with everyone else?” he asked, sounding a bit more forceful than necessary.

The girl took another step back, “I…I don’t…” she struggled for an answer.

Alastor took the moment to smirk, ‘A _heathen_.’ He thought.

Oh, the _ways_ he could corrupt her young mind…

Before he could tempt the girl into any sort of mischief, the church bells rung out once more, and this time, he couldn’t stop himself from bringing a hand to his ear in pain.

“Are you alright?” the girl asked in concern, all uneasiness of him erased.

The disguised demon winced at the last ring before nodding and dropping his hand, “Yes…yes I’m fine.” He assured, not even bothering to think up an excuse for the child.

“Maybe you should go see our town doctor. He can help you with your ear.” The girl suggested.

Alastor shook his head, “No need.”

The girl deflated, “Oh…”

The demon rubbed his ear again, no longer interested in messing with the child. He had work to do anyway…

“Why don’t you run off and play?” he urged.

The girl hesitated, “You won’t tell anyone I was out here?”

“I could _honestly_ care less if a child skipped mass.” He snapped, though unknowingly assuring the girl that he wasn’t going to say anything.

The child flinched before giving a quick nod and scampering away, eager to get away from the stranger.

Alastor shook his head as he turned and made his way back to the village.

The church bells had yet to ring again, but he knew the relief would be short lived as they would sound out once more when the mass was over.

He’d figure it out.

A little pain was a small price to pay if it meant getting the job done.

None the less though, it wouldn’t hurt to punish Sartael further for it.

He just had to think of how to put his backup plan into motion.

Alastor quickened his pace when he entered the village, relishing how silent and empty it seemed while everyone was busy worshiping and buying every conservative word that emitted from their minister’s mouth.

It was almost sad how easily humans could be influenced. How simple it was to tempt them with money, particularly _gold_.

It was a good thing he still had the fake letter in his case. He just had to think of a way to get it into some greedy human hands. From there, the plan would practically run itself. The humans would be begging to get their hands on the gold by any means necessary, and all Alastor would have to do was keep the ball running until they all got what they wanted.

Well, until _most_ got what they wanted, and by ‘most’ he meant _him_. Alastor.

They would keep going until _Alastor_ got what he wanted.

And Alastor _always_ got what he wanted.

With that in mind, Alastor entered the pub/inn and trotted up the stairs. Once in his room, he made a beeline to his bag and stopped.

He stared down at the bag.

Something was off…

As requested, it was set on his bed, and it _looked_ like it was closed, but the clasps were open when he clearly remembered _closing_ them before handing the bag to the child, and he was sure they were still closed when he left.

 _Someone_ came in and went through his possessions…

Such an offense would have _ensured_ a serious penalty in Hell, but in light of the circumstances, perhaps this could work to his benefit…

Alastor riffled though the bag, and was met with what he already knew.

His letter from the ‘government’ was missing.

While the letter had always been meant as a ‘plan B’ sort of thing, Alastor had originally meant to ‘misplace’ it in public in hopes of the humans finding it, and after being questioned on it, he would have revealed the significance of his visit, and from there, he hoped the humans would be curious enough to volunteer their assistance. 

But if the human boy had taken it, this could still work in his favor. Sure, the bait had been prematurely cast, but he could still lure them to the hook, and if he played his cards right, he could successfully reel them in.

Alastor nodded.

Yes…he could still take hold of this situation and get his job done in a timely manner.

Stepping out of his room, he paused and listened for any indication of life downstairs. Upon being greeted by silence, he trudged down to the bottom and made his way out of the lodge. He would have to find the boy and confiscate the letter, and then while reporting it to his parents, particularly the barkeep, he would ‘let slip’ the details of its contents. If locating the boy was unsuccessful, he would simply ask the father where the child was, and he would work from there.

Unfortunately, the boy would no doubt be at mass with the rest of the townspeople, and seeing as he couldn’t step foot on holy ground, Alastor had not choice but to wait till the services were over, and he could begin his hunt.

* * *

It was about an hour later that the mass finally ended, and the townspeople filed out of the monastery, chatting amongst themselves and rushing to get back to their daily business. 

Alastor had positioned himself nearby, but he had lost sight of the child amid the crowd of people, and picking up his scent was impossible as it was lost in the sea of dozens of overlapping scents.

The demon stuck around a bit longer, trying to remain inconspicuous as he scanned the crowd. In the end though, his search was for naught, and the only thing he got for his efforts were some scathing glares from the religious church-goers, who were no doubt condemning him for his lack of belief.

He glared right back.

Eventually, the last of the patrons filed out, and Alastor was at last able to confirm that the boy was long gone.

Alastor tapped his cane on the ground in frustration, trying to thing of what to do.

He could go to the boy’s father and ask on the boy’s whereabouts. Should the father request a reason, he would simply state that the child stole an important document.

Alastor ran a tongue against his cheek in thought. That actually didn’t sound like a bad idea…

Picking up his cane, he turned and was about to make his way to the bar/inn, when a man’s voice made him stop,

“You there!”

The demon turned with a raised brow, and found an elderly priest approaching him, followed closely by a husky, middle aged woman. A third, slimmer woman with a firm expression wasn’t far behind.

The demon straightened to his full height as the trio came to a stop before him.

“Can I help you?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

“We missed you at our afternoon service.” The priest started.

“My deepest apologies, but I’m here purely for work. I don’t have time to attend services when there are more serious matters I must attend to.” He lifted his chin so that he was literally looking down his nose at the pastor. This seemed to rile the women as if they couldn’t believe the audacity of his actions. Alastor ignored their glares. His loyalties laid elsewhere.

The priest himself looked appalled at the ‘government official’s’ attitude, but continued none the less, “So you would say that your work is more important than hearing the word of the Lord?” Mateo challenged.

“Yes.” Alastor replied bluntly.

Three jaw dropped at his response before the lean woman pointed at the priest, “You were right! The government _is_ turning its back on the church!” she hissed as she narrowed her eyes at the demon.

The priest spoke up once more, “If you wish to save your soul, I highly suggest you change your ways before it’s too late!”

Alastor sniffed. He could _smell_ the old man’s soul, and it was far from pure.

“Perhaps you should worry about your _own_ soul. Simply being a priest doesn’t guarantee you a spot in Heaven, just as attending mass alone doesn’t make one a good person. If you want to get up there,” he jerked his head upwards, “you have to work for it and earn your place with good deeds.” He nearly gagged at his own lecture. By trade, he shouldn’t even _care_ whether or not these sheep got into Heaven, and by all means, he _should_ be glad of the possibility of them ending up in the pits, as it would mean more souls to torment, and test his new techniques on, but if taunting them with the prospect of them ending up in Hell was enough to get them to shut up, then he’ll take any opportunity to tell them so.

This tactic seemed to work, as all three accusers looked downright offended at his notion that they weren’t good people. A look of fury actually crossed the pastor’s face, but before he could defend himself, Alastor held up a hand to silence him, “While I would love to continue this charming little discussion, I’m afraid I must get back to work.” Then, without giving the humans a chance to defend themselves, he turned and strolled away.

“Oh, the _nerve!_ ” One of the women hissed as he weaved through the crowds.

He was going to head back to the bar-inn when a familiar scent hit him.

Swiveling his head around, he finally caught sight of the boy he had been looking for. He was dashing through the village, wiping at his bloody nose, while another boy followed close at his feet.

Alastor hesitated only for a split second before following after them. They were heading to the back of the monastery. In the event that the boy _did_ still have the letter, he would have to move fast.

“You there! _Boy_!” he called out.

The children stopped, and he noted that the heathen girl he met earlier was there as well, though she was looking rather sheepish, and her clothes were dirty…as were Benito’s.

Had they been in a fight?

Alastor shook that concern from his mind as he approached his host’s boy, “Young man,” he started, relishing in how the boy’s face paled at the sight of the official. He _knew_ what the man wanted, “when I asked you to place my bag on the bed, was that _all_ you did?”

The child nodded nervously, “Y-yes sir…”

“And you didn’t do anything else?”

“…no sir…”

“You didn’t go through my belongings?” the demon pried. The girl looked at the boys in curiosity.

“I-”

“Choose your words wisely, because I just checked over my case, and it seems that the only thing missing is a very important notice from the government.” Alastor took a step closer, “So I ask again; did you take it?”

Benito cringed, “Yes sir…” he confessed.

“And where is it?” Alastor demanded.

“My father has it.”

Alastor gave a small nod.

It would have served him better to go to the bar as he had originally intended, but it still didn’t hurt to check with the child anyway. At least now, he knew for sure where his bait was.

‘And it means the fish are now nibbling…’ Alastor thought.

Without another word to the human offspring, Alastor left to the bar.

It took a bit longer to get there, what with the streets being more crowded and livelier than they had been earlier that morning.

When he finally _did_ make it back, he was thoroughly fed up with the villagers in general.

As he entered the establishment, he could hear several familiar voices talking in hushed voices.

“Gold?”

“Could that be what the dandy’s looking for?”

“The treasure of Zumalacarregui!”

“A treasure? Here in town?” One of the men asked skeptically.

Thinking fast, Alastor put his plan into action. He stepped up from behind the barkeep, effectively taking the group by surprise, “Excuse me, but I think that’s _mine_.” He reached across the table and yanked the parchment from one of the men’s grasp. He sent the human a cold glare for added effect.

The owner stood up in defense, “I’m sorry…my son, he’s a blockhead. He took it out of curiosity.”

“I should report this…” Alastor threatened as he glanced at the group, relishing in how they cowered at the thought of being reported to their government’s officials.

“That’s not necessary.” The keeper argued, “What about if I let you have the room at half price?” he offered hopefully.

Alastor simply stared. ‘Is that _all_ you have to offer?’

The man sighed in defeat, “No charge. You’re our guest…what do you say?”

Alastor gave the smallest of nods. ‘That’s what I thought.’

None the less, he had a better offer…

“What about, if you help me get into the forge today, then we’ll forget about this?” he sat himself down in an empty chair, paying little mind to the approaching footsteps behind him.

“ _Today_?” the keeper repeated, “I don’t know…maybe later…?” he shared a look with the woman standing behind him.

“Santi!” the woman hissed, resting her arms on Alastor’s shoulder.

Recognizing the voice, Alastor chanced a quick peek at the woman and nearly groaned. It was the same, lean woman he had seen outside the church.

“You have to work behind the bar!” she argued.

“Ana!”

“I have my _own_ things to do!” Ana fought, making it a point to press down on Alastor’s shoulder, perhaps in retribution for him telling her and the other woman, as well as the priest off.

Alastor sighed as the man looked down in submission.

‘A henpecked husband.’ The demon snarled internally. How he _wished_ he could smack the woman’s arms off him…

“Don’t worry brother,” one of the other men offered, “I’ll take the guys. It’ll help us pay back what we owe you.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Ana nagged. She gave a final press on Alastor’s shoulder before slapping her husband upside his head.

“It’s fine with me.” Alastor piped up. He didn’t care _who_ took him, so long as he got _in_. He sent a cold glare after the woman.

He was _really_ looking forward to seeing her down below.

“Do you think there’s gold in the forge?” one of the men asked, getting back to business. “Twelve pounds in pieces of gold…donated by the Tsar of Russia to the Carlist cause, so that Captain Tomas Zumalacarregui could lay siege to Bilbao.” He gushed, “But the gold never reached its destination.” The man smiled as he recounted his vast knowledge of the issue.

Through it all, Alastor looked around at the men assembled around the table, “How do you know all that?” he questioned with furrowed brows.

“It was a rumor among the soldiers.” The man explained, “I _thought_ it was just a tale to entertain us.”

Alastor nodded. ‘A soldier.’

“-But they also said there were Lamias on the banks of the Bidasoa.” The vet continued, “women with duck feet-”

“ _Shut up!”_ the keeper hissed, “You’re a bore with those stories.”

Alastor was somewhat grateful for the interruption. He _really_ didn’t want to hear anything about that crazy demoness. He held up the parchment, “This letter and the enlistment documents point directly to that blacksmith.” He announced, getting back to the matter at hand.

The ex-soldier held up a finger, “If I were you, I wouldn’t go near that place.” He warned as he looked around at his friends, “You know how his wife was found…” He mimed a nose around his neck while cocking his head to the side, and sticking his tongue out, turning the implication into some sort of sick joke.

“She killed herself because she was so unhappy with him. The hammer lost his mind. He stopped talking to people and started behaving violently-”

Alastor drowned out the rest of the man’s ramblings as he attempted to dissuade him.

The demon knew the true story of why the human went seemingly insane, but he could care less about how he injured some random human.

Even if the tale was true, Alastor wasn’t afraid.

He was a demon, and Patxi was a human.

 _Alastor_ had the advantage. _He_ held all the winning cards in this particular game.

“-there are horrible screams too that chill your blood.”

 _That_ had gotten the arch-demon’s attention.

“Some say it’s the ghost of his wife…others say it’s the Devil who wants to take the blacksmith’s soul.” The vet finished.

‘ _Sartael_ …’ Alastor thought.

But the human mentioned ‘ _screaming_ ’…

If it _was_ his son that was making all that noise, then _why_.

What could the human be doing to the demon that warranted such shrieks?

Alastor shook his head and waved the letter in reminder, “I _need_ to get in.” He folded the letter and stuck it in his waistcoat pocket, “Arms yourselves if you must, but we made an agreement to get in _today_.” The men shared an uneasy look, and Alastor leaned back in his seat, “Of course, I _could_ just report on how you were all meddling in official affairs to the authorities.” He sent a knowing look to the men, _knowing_ that they wouldn’t want that.

Sure enough, the men deflated, “No, we’ll take you.” Santi’s brother assured while the others reluctantly nodded along. He directed his attention back to the demon, “Give us about fifteen minutes to get our guns and get ready. We’ll meet you at the bridge.” He instructed.

Alastor smiled and rose from his seat, “Excellent.” Was all he said before turning and leaving the establishment.

He allowed a smirk to grace his lips as he weaved through the townsfolk.

Things were getting back on track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OC:  
> Xenia- Low level demoness; Sartael's mother, and Alastor's fling. Xenia is a Greek name meaning "hospitable" or "welcoming".
> 
> Ectorius- Low level demon; son of Baalberith. Ectorius is supposed to be a Roman name meaning "to restrain" or "one who has imaginative and creative mind"


	3. Failed Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't go as Alastor planned...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Any of the familiar dialogue is a mix of the English audio and English subtitles that you can hear/read when you watch the film on Netflix.
> 
> Disclaimer: Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil does not belong to me. This awesome film belongs to Paul Urkijo, and a special thanks goes out to him as well as the cast and crew for bringing this film to light <3.  
> With that said; This fic is purely for fun, and i'm in NO WAY making ANY money off this.
> 
> Announcement: This was originally going to be a long multi-chapter fic, but after some deliberation, I've decided to make this a short fic and THEN write a longer sequel that will take place after the events of the film, and we'll see the fates of Alastor and Sartael.

Half an hour later, Alastor and his trio of volunteers found themselves approaching the smithy with the three humans joking and yapping the entire way, and quickly getting on Alastor’s nerves.

“Wanna fill _me_ in on the joke? I’d love to know what’s so funny.” One of the men snapped in irritation while his companions snickered at his attire.

“It’s nothing.” One of them chuckled, “We were just saying how well dressed you are for this mission.”

Alastor closed his eyes as he tried to control his temper.

Something told him they were referring to him as well.

“ _Actually,_ it was the beret my father wore during the war.” The first man defended.

Alastor held a hand up and shushed them. With all the noise the humans had been making, he wouldn’t be surprised if the blacksmith already knew they were there.

“Go in and search the place. Yell if you find something suspicious.” The demon instructed, relishing in the momentary silence.

The humans nodded and moved around him, stepping up to the barred gate.

One of the men turned, “Aren’t you coming?” he asked incredulously.

Alastor shook his head, “I’d just be in the way. I’ve never been any good at field work.”

Truth be told, Alastor was hoping to give the perimeter another look to see if he could find a weakness in the barricade. If anything, the trio could keep the blacksmith distracted while he found a way through the fence, and once he was in, he could make quick work on the elusive smithy as well as retrieving Sartael from whatever mess he had found himself in.

The men shrugged, “If you say so…” one of them murmured.

They turned, and the tallest of the group broke the chain holding the gate shut. He smirked at his companions, “Not laughing so much _now_ , are ya?”

Alastor rolled his eyes and moved down the path that would lead to the back end of the smithy.

‘ _Humans_.’ He mused in agitation, ‘Things were _so_ _much_ simpler in ancient times.’

Sometimes he wondered if he made the right decision in leaving the Greek pantheon…

Alastor shook the thought from his head. It was best not to get too caught up in those thoughts again.

His Greek days were a thing of the past, and he was more than happy to keep it that way.

The only thing he could do now was continue to build up on his reputation with this younger religion. And _boy_ did he get a reputation.

As the ex-god of vengeance and blood, Alastor brought his attitude and bloodlust to Hell, and it wasn’t long till he caught the attention and favor of Lucifer, and while he wasn’t given a royal title, he was still declared a high demon, and was named ‘Chief Executioner in the Monarch of Hell’. After that, word quickly spread throughout the underworld of the vicious demon, and within a matter of decades, the humans caught word of Alastor, and his reputation only grew as Christianity spread throughout the world.

It was a feat that Alastor had always taken great pride in, and he enjoyed throwing his weight around when among the lower demons.

He _relished_ in their fear, and like many other higher demons, he loved bossing the tiny imps around, and like the other higher demons, he particularly enjoyed choosing pretty demonesses to spend the night with.

High demonesses were nice, and succubi were _amazing_ , but the low-level demonesses…there was something pleasant in laying with them.

Maybe it was the thrill of knowing that _he_ was of high standing while the female he was spending the night with was of _low_ standing…

Alastor didn’t know the true reason. All he knew was that yellow-eyed demonesses were his go-to bed warmers.

Now, by all means, he wasn’t one that craved sex every day, but there _were_ times when he would have cravings just like everyone else, and as such, he would search out a female that could please him.

It was during one of these ‘hunts’ that Alastor met what would end up being Sartael’s mother…

_Alastor stood among the Malebranche, his crimson eyes scanning the vast circle, relishing in the sounds of pain and terror that resonated all around him._

_He had just checked in with his group of followers and was pleased to hear that things were running smoothly, and the low demons were currently implicating new torture techniques Alastor and his gang had invented._

_All in all, it was a successful test run, and Alastor felt he earned himself some fun with a pretty female for the night._

_His mind thought of his usual choices, many of them succubi, but at the moment, he was aching for the high that came from mating with one of those golden eyed peasants, and there just so happened to be a good amount of them among the sea of low demons before him._

_He turned to Malacoda, “I’m done for the night. I’ll check in with you tomorrow morning.” He announced._

_His closest ally nodded, “Have a pleasant night Alastor.” He sent a knowing smirk as the head executioner left._

_As Alastor made his way through the realm, he kept an eye out for a potential lover._

_Many of the females he locked eyes with, cowered in his presence, either shrinking in on themselves, or pressing themselves against friends, family member, or established mates who in turn, would wrap a protective arm around their significant other._

_Alastor scoffed._

_As if any of these weak males could actually protect their mates. _

_Lucky for them, Alastor didn’t have a taste for females that were already taken. He had tried this once, but the female’s constant crying and begging quickly put him out of the mood, and he ended up not even doing anything that night. He hadn’t even managed to properly touch her as she began the water works the second the door to his private chambers closed. And it wasn’t that he actually cared that she wanted to remain loyal to her mate, or that she had several offspring of her own and didn’t want them to eventually find out what happened to her. He just hated all the noise she was making and knew that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the night if he proceeded. _

_After letting the grateful female go, Alastor vowed to never take a female if he knew for sure that she had an established mate._

_That was the most ‘kindness’ the demons would receive from him. _

_Other high demons weren’t so generous…_

_Alastor continued on his prowl when something caught his attention._

_A lone demoness was making her way to one of the gates that led in and out of this particular circle, and Alastor could only assume that she had finished her shift as handfuls of other demons were making their way out just as others were making their way in._

_Not wanting to pass on this opportunity, Alastor quickened his pace as he beelined after her._

_He momentarily lost sight of her after leaving the ring and entering the crowded hall outside, but thanks to his height, he was able to locate her just as she turned a corner that would eventually lead her back to whatever section her dwelling was in._

_Alastor wasted no time in following close behind, and after rounding the corner, he shrunk down to human size, earning him some confused looks from the other demons, and continued his pursuit in his smaller size, his eyes still locked on the oblivious demoness._

_Eventually the chase led to the somewhat more remote part of the dwellings, and by now, the crowds had died down as most that roamed the area had a tendency to remain indoors with their families while enjoying their time off in between shifts._

_It was here that Alastor decided to make his move._

_The demoness took a right into another hall, and in a move that could only be described as teleportation, Alastor materialized at the center of the hall, only a few feet in front of the startled she-demon._

Alastor allowed himself a rare smile at the memory.

After a brief introduction, Alastor had managed to indiscreetly ask about her status in terms of relationships, and had been pleased to find that she was in fact, unmated and was not being pursued by anyone as far as she knew.

With that revelation, Alastor wasted no time in trying to seduce the female, only to be interrupted by another female peering out from her dwellings, a toddler held in each of her arms, and several other young faces peaking out from behind her legs.

Caught off guard by the sudden audience, Alastor was about to order them back to their own business when Xenia piped up that the female with the children was her brother’s mate and that she was actually due to watch over her nieces and nephews so that their mother could leave for her own work shift. Apparently, the father, Xenia’s brother, was working a double shift and wouldn’t return until later, so it _had_ to be Xenia that had to watch over the little imps.

Alastor hadn’t missed the way Xenia visibly relaxed when he reluctantly agreed to let her be for the night.

Her relief was short lived when the male archdemon informed her that he would see her again in the future. 

And see her again he did.

He saw her _many_ times, and each time, something would happen that would foil his attempts to get her to accompany him back to his home and into his bed.

It was frustrating at times, but he continued his pursuit.

At first, he would admit that he was attracted to her solely for her looks, but as time went on, she became somewhat more accustomed to his near daily ‘visits’, and thus her defensive wall began to crumble, and Alastor was able to learn more about her little by little. As a result, he found himself attracted to her based on what she revealed to him.

A couple of such things included her smile and laugh as well as her sharp tongue.

It took many months to woo Xenia, but during that thrill-full chase, the encounters would get longer, and the two would strike up small talk as part of the archdemon’s plan to get her guard down, and every so often, Xenia would make a small quip that could only be described as playful teasing, followed by an equally playful smile, or a jovial giggle.

Of course, afterwards, it would seem that she remembered her place and _who_ she was talking to, and would blush and send a flurry of apologies for mouthing off.

Alastor used his cane to move some brush out of the way.

Had anyone other than her made a jab at him in the way she had, they probably would’ve lost their tongue then and there. Hell, if she had done that during their first encounter, he probably would have given her some sort of punishment.

But he didn’t, and it seemed that the more time he spent around her, the more _his_ façade seemed to crumble, which that in itself was a frightening realization.

He had never been particularly gentle or patient with his past flings, nor had he ever developed any other feelings towards them past the usual lust, but with Xenia…she somehow stirred up feelings that were long forgotten.

Feelings that a demon of his standing _shouldn’t_ be feeling.

By all means, he _should_ have ended it _then_ , but Xenia was like a siren that continuously lured him back to her.

And how could she not?

While an adult, she was still considered relatively young, only being about two centuries old, and was still full of energy. She had a good sense of humor and she could be feisty should the need arise.

Save for the occasional teasing, Alastor had never really been on the receiving end of Xenia’s fury, but he had seen her use it on some troublesome souls, or on bothersome demons that would try to hit on her during or after work.

It was all impressive, but truth be told, it wasn’t anything Alastor hadn’t seen before…at least not in a _long_ while, which is probably why he found himself drawn to her.

She reminded him of-

Alastor quickly shook his head as to rid himself of where that train of thought was going.

Now _wasn’t_ the time to get lost in his past, much less think of a flame that had come _long_ before Xenia had even been born.

Right _now_ , Alastor had to focus on taking in the blacksmith and bringing Sartael home. He had been on Earth for a good portion of the day, and he was sure the princes were now wondering what was taking _him_ so long.

He continues on his way to the back of the forge, only to find that the fencing goes all the way around, effectively keeping intruders out, and sealing prisoners in…

He sniffed the air and caught the faint scent of demon blood.

He blinked, feeling slightly uneased…

Sartael was weak by demon standards, and Alastor had no problem showing his distaste for his son, nor did he regret the fact that he and Xenia kept his relation to Sartael a secret from him, but standing here _now_ and smelling the blood of his offspring…it was enough to send a primal, instinctive surge of worry and _anger_ at the human for injuring his son.

Alastor gave an inhuman snort.

He hoped the runt was _least_ fighting back and making it difficult for the blacksmith-

A scream and a gun shot made him jolt, dropping his cane in the process. He swiftly bent down and retrieved the item.

A second shot rang out, and he turned in the direction the screams of pain were coming from.

What in the name of the Dark Prince was going _on_?

He quickly made his way back around the fence, towards all the commotion.

“Where’s Lucas?! And the dandy?!”

Alastor froze and hid among the dark foliage, just as two of the humans dashed through the gates.

“I don’t know! Run!” One of the men yelled as he answered his companion’s question, tripping over himself as he ran.

Alastor could only watch as the humans dashed down the path as if the Devil himself was after them. He noted that there were only two as opposed to the three he had arrived with…

He sniffed the air and picked up the scent of freshly spilled blood. The scent and the following silence told Alastor everything he needed to know, and he scowled deeply.

Leave it to humans to not only mess everything up, but to get someone killed in the process.

The demon’s ear twitched at the sound of approaching footsteps, and he tensed before merging further into the shadows. He ducked behind a tree just as the blacksmith stepped out for a look around.

Alastor could feel his heart race in anticipation. Now was his chance to strike!

He adjusted his hold on his cane and willed it to take the form of his trident…scaled down of course.

He stepped around the tree only to see that the blacksmith had retreated back behind the gate.

The sound of something being dragged made him perk, and he froze wondering if he was coming back out, or going further in.

The sound of a door slamming shut and locking answered his question, and Alastor snarled in frustration.

He had him! He was _right there!_

Alastor hit the tree with his fist. _This_ is what happens when one is _too_ cautious.

He could have easily rushed the human when he stepped out from his sanctuary, but Alastor was too concerned with panning his attack that he completely messed his chance.

With a growl, he trudged over to the fence that now stood agape, and eyed the forge that the human had barricaded himself in.

He _could_ just take his natural form and take him out now, but Orobas’ warning lingered in his mind.

‘ _Do not underestimate him…_ ’

The demon frowned as he eyed the various crosses around the yard.

Everyone knew that crosses repelled demons, but what _if_ , by chance, this human _knew_ some of their _other_ weaknesses? Perhaps _that_ was how Sartael managed to get captured…

Alastor hummed as screamed of frustration ran from the forge.

Maybe it _was_ a good idea to bring in some more backup for his next visit.

That is of course, if the humans would even want to return after the mishap that had just occurred. Their comrade had just lost his life, and this could either work _for_ Alastor or against him. The death would no doubt cause fear among the villagers, but if Alastor could work a crowd into a frenzy, then maybe he could rally them to take revenge on the blacksmith.

Humans _liked_ vengeance.

Alastor liked it too, in fact, he _loved_ it.

It was in his name, and had always been his specialty, going as far back to his days in the ancient Greek pantheon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Ancient Greek mythology, Alastor was the spirit or, according to some sources, god of Vengeance and family feuds. Eventually with the rise of Judo-Christianity, he was made a demon and said to be Lucifer's chief executioner.


End file.
